tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370462722006-12-04T00:30:31.511-05:00Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgBlogger10110tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-20157453363707996892006-11-27T01:00:00.000-05:002006-11-27T01:02:35.295-05:00

I've gone back in time a bit and written a "Part Zero" that serves as an introduction to the setting, as well as a quick and dirty way for me to boost the word count (since part of the purpose of NaNoWriMo is to write as many words in thirty days as possible). I've chronologically posted it before part one -- if you look back in the archives, it will be the first post in this blog. If you're

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-76560311532279968392006-11-01T00:57:00.000-05:002006-11-27T00:57:56.530-05:00

Long ago -- so long ago that it lies nearly forgotten in our oldest myths -- magic was alive in the world. The races of the world -- dwarf and elf, ork and human -- learned to wield these mystic energies and began to build cities and civilizations. It was the dawn of a golden age -- an age of legend. But, like all things, this blooming paradise of art and culture would not last forever. An elf

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-15611959773386123192006-11-25T00:41:00.000-05:002006-11-25T00:59:06.460-05:00

The sun was climbing the eastern sky, and the dew glittered like gems on a jeweler's cloth. Errig sat on a flat stone, eating porridge out of a wooden bowl. Autumn Thunder stood nearby, grazing. Horgar approached, leading Midnight Justice. "The prisoners are being branded as ordered, sir." Errig nodded. "When that's done, set them loose and get the men ready to ride. I'd like to be back at the

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-44917860436775887002006-11-19T01:48:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:53:19.205-05:00

Just a quick note to let you know that I have reorganized the posts thus far to coincide with what I have as the actual 'chapter breaks' in my story. What this means is that the post entitled "Six" is actually "Chapter Six" of the story instead of the end of Chapter Five. What was "Four" got combined with "Three"... it may seen very confusing, but there's a simple way to figure it out... go back

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-22667609696616316152006-11-12T11:13:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:47:49.784-05:00

Anna shivered, and hugged her knees to her chest. She had spent an uncomfortable night in the wagon, huddled against Marielle. She had awakened not long after sunrise, and spent the next few hours jostled by the wagon's passage over the rough terrain. Around midday, the wagons came to a halt. Hovering just a few feet off the ground was a wooden galley, floating in the air like a boat on the

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-49261214322532630602006-11-12T11:12:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:47:11.242-05:00

Davon felt the horse move under him, heard the thunder of hooves on the turf, saw the fires of the slaver camp draw closer by the moment. His left shoulder felt stiff. When the cavalry had stopped for a break, one of the ork riders had come over to him and examined the wound. "Not bad work," he had said. "But this isn't the sort of thing you want to carry into battle. Wear with pride afterwards,

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-1163056776510319512006-11-09T02:19:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:46:39.872-05:00

Gezrig Tar, outcast of Clan Stoneclaw, walked the perimeter of the slaver's camp. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, And Gezrig was looking forward to heading back to civilization, and spending some of the coin he had earned on this job. Many in his clan would kill him for the insult to their honor he represented; working as a mercenary in service of the Theran slavers who

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-1162880542009350262006-11-07T01:21:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:46:07.836-05:00

Errig Quicklance, commander of the Falcon detachment of Terath's Chargers, sat on the crest of the hill and surveyed the ruined village below. He was tall, and sat straight in the saddle despite his age. He had recently passed his thirty-fifth summer -- no small accomplishment for a people that rarely saw a half-century pass. He wore his traveling armor: a hardened-leather tunic and greaves,

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-1162621645374433532006-11-04T01:26:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:45:35.286-05:00

Anna kicked and screamed, but the scary painted man was too strong. He snarled something at her that she didn't understand, but he sounded like Davon did when he was mad at her about something. She stopped struggling, and that seemed to make the painted man happy. He carried her towards the center of the village. There was fire, and screaming, and other things that Anna didn't want to think

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.orgtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37046272.post-1162524460579317202006-11-02T22:26:00.000-05:002006-11-19T01:44:55.683-05:00

Davon woke up to the smell of smoke and the sounds of battle. Remembering what his parents had told him, he threw the light linen aside and rolled out of bed. He pulled on a pair of breeches, and pulled the drawstring tight around his waist. He didn't bother with a shirt or boots -- it was a warm night, and his feet went unshod all summer, the soles toughened by his wanderings in the nearby woods

Joshhttp://www.lore-merchant.org